


Blue Moon Massacre

by Jadeile



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Action, Blood and Guts, Cannibalism, Gen, Gore, Horror, Mild Psychological Torture, Murder, Mutilation, Suspense, Swearing, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:08:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27213940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jadeile/pseuds/Jadeile
Summary: Charlie goes to an important event for the Blue Moon night, leaving the hotel under Alastor’s protection. A grave mistake, as the time is ripe for Alastor to put the residents of the hotel to their intended use now that his only obstacle is guaranteed to be out of his way for the night. A scary and gorey fic for ‘Darker Oneshots, Halloween Challenge 2020’.
Relationships: Alastor & Husk & Niffty (Hazbin Hotel)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 64
Collections: Darker Oneshots 2020





	Blue Moon Massacre

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N:** I'm putting this mandatory note in the beginning so to not ruin the oof-factor in the fic's ending ;)
> 
> Here's a list of the people taking part in the "Darker Oneshots, Halloween Challenge 2020":
> 
> Alastair, ArgentNoelle, AsgardianHobbit98, Babyvfan, Bewdofchaos, Brenna76, Caldera Valhallis, Count Morningstar, CrimsonRaine87, DancesWithSeatbelts, DemonOfTheFridge, DemonShippingQueen, Desna, Drawingdownthemoon, Elleurs, Ferith12, FreyjaBee, HisagiKirigakure, HoshisamaValmor, Iceburg-sanCPX, Jadeile, Kakashi97, Kamil the Awesome, Karkatsbabe, Kittyface27, KurohimeHaruko, Max333, Nazaki-Sama, NekoPantera, Nissa Fox, PhantomGypsy13, Phoenixreal, Potashiamu, RayeMoon, Rhearenee, Sailor Silver Ladybug, SensiblyTainted, SerenaJones.585, SereneCalamity, SesshomaruFreak, Seth's Kiss, Shnuggletea, Sigan, Silirt, Silverstar, Spunky0ne, Starfire93, Tartarun, The Token, TheBadIdeaBears, TsukikoUchu, WhatIDesireEternally, Wrath of Vajra, Xache, Yatsu Narurasuke, Yemi Hikari
> 
> Special thanks to Seth's Kiss and NekoPantera for organizing this event<3
> 
> [Here's a link to the masterpost with all the current and future fics for this event.](https://docs.google.com/document/d/11qWpFLZqX_5U8I0kZieN6JLuWTF_IyepGO03JNGfiWs/edit?usp=sharing)
> 
> Oh, and for those that aren't aware, we actually have a legit blue moon on this fine Halloween! Of course the irl version isn't actually blue ;)

"Don't you worry your pretty little head, my dear", Alastor said, hands on Charlie's shoulders as the two of them stood in the doorway of the hotel. Charlie was dressed in a fancy suit that was subtly apple themed, had her hair in an intricate braid made by her girlfriend, and had flawless make-up that had taken her a whole hour to apply. She was dressed to impress and Alastor had to admit that the results of her efforts were well worth the time investment. "Most of the Overlords and other powerful beings will be attending the same shindig you are, and I have no intention of leaving the hotel unattended tonight, Blue Moon or not. We have been through this."

Charlie's mouth twitched like she was itching to bite her lovingly painted lips, but she resisted in an effort to preserve her make-up. "I know. I just worry. Oh, I don't want to doubt you or your skills, but-"

"But your personal presence and power would be a better deterrent to any evildoers looking for easy prey", Alastor said with a wide smile, cutting her off without a care. Only a little longer… "Charlie, Charlie! I'm the Radio Demon! You may be more powerful in a technical sense, but I'm much more intimidating. Nobody will attempt anything, and if they do they'll regret it most dearly, I swear on my magic. Just go on already, before you end up being late! It's no longer in fashion, you know."

Charlie gave the hotel in general one last worried look, before taking a calming breath and giving Alastor a bright smile. "You're right! I'm counting on you to take care of everything tonight. And if anything comes up, the rest of the guys have hellphones and my number."

"That's the spirit!" Alastor said with a laugh and spun her around to face the open doorway. He unceremoniously pushed her out and towards the suitably fancy limousine that was waiting for her. "Have fun! Don't let daddy dearest bring you down, and tell Lilith I said hi! Bye bye!"

He slammed the car door shut in her face and gave a little wave through the window. Charlie looked off-balance, but smiled and returned the wave after a mere moment of hesitation, and soon after the limo was driving away, the backlights vanishing into the rare blue tinted night.

Alastor stood outside and watched the car drive away and out of view – even waited a few moments after it was long gone – until Charlie's presence at the hotel was completely absent.

Until the hotel was well outside of her unconscious circle of protection and influence.

Vulnerable and simply waiting for Alastor to sink his eager claws into it this fine night.

His eyes glowed red and his smile yellow as he turned on his heels and stepped inside of the Helpless Hotel with the sound of radio static on his heels.

\----

Husk's ears twitched at the sound of the front door opening and closing, and he lifted himself from the bar counter he had been slumping on, eyes darting at Alastor upon his entrance.

Alastor's aura was almost physically tangible to his highly tuned sixth sense, buzzing in the air like an entire nest of fucking hornets, and it made the fur on the back of his neck and on his tail stand on end completely against his will.

"Tonight, huh?" he asked, because he knew this game. He had played it before many times over the decades he had rotted in Hell with the Radio Demon.

He much preferred to be on Alastor's side of the game, he should mention.

"Tonight", Alastor said, long nails tap tap tapping on the bar counter in a vague rhythm of some song Husk couldn't recognize from tapping alone. They were longer tonight. His grin was sharper. His eyes glowed menacingly, the pupils turning dial shaped every other blink. His antlers were already bigger, more handsome than the everyday forks of his.

The Radio Demon was itching to play.

"Where's Niffty?" Alastor asked, tilting his head to the right. The station on the radio behind Husk switched channels.

"Cleaning the kitchen, the last I saw", Husk answered. The fur on his tail was slowly smoothing down because he knew he was safe – much unlike the others. "Should I fetch her?"

The channel switched again.

"No need", Alastor replied and snapped his fingers. 

Niffty appeared on the bar counter. She was wearing an apron and a pair of tiny rubber gloves, and in her right hand was a washcloth that smelled of soap and cooking grease.

She hated getting blood on her nice clothes, so the apron was a stroke of luck on her part.

"I'm feasting tonight, my dear", Alastor explained before she could launch a round of questions. "You should ready your knives."

It was all that needed to be said.

"Ooh! Yes! I've been waiting for this day! Or night, I guess!" Niffty said with a wet clap that sent a few droplets of soapy water flying around. She dropped the rag on the counter and pulled a large kitchen knife from her apron pocket. Husk didn't even bother questioning it.

The channel switched again.

"Mimzy?"

Husk shrugged. "In her room, I guess. Not in the lounge anyway."

Alastor tapped his chin in contemplation. His claws were longer than Husk’s now, which was honestly fucking scary if one considered it for too long. "Let's hope so. I would prefer to spare her."

Duly noted. Husk hoped it'd be him or Niffty who ran into her if she happened to be somewhere else in the hotel – Alastor didn't like sparing anyone once he got in the zone.

"Shall we begin, friends?" Alastor asked, and the edges of his slasher smile disappeared into his hairline. Creepy as fuck, this bastard.

Husk knew the question wasn't actually a damn question, but he nodded anyway and grabbed his hat off his head. He reached inside and pulled out Angel Dust's hellphone with a faint orange flash concealed by the hat’s brim. He tossed the phone to Niffty, who opened the sim card slot and pulled out a small, thin playing card as easily as she had slipped it in a good while ago.

It was really too easy with the poor losers of this hotel trusting little Niffty the Maid.

While Husk and Niffty worked on relieving the residents of their electronics, Alastor started glowing a sick, pulsing green and the shadows on the walls started moving, dancing, chittering in a quiet way that most people couldn't pick up but Husk couldn't fucking unhear once it started. They morphed bigger, multiplied, opened their gloving eyes and sharp grins and scattered to darken the windows, jam the doors, lurk in the ventilations and plumbings, and haunt the fireplace.

By the time the three of them were done, all the exits were sealed and all the hellphones, vPads, laptops, and other means to contact anyone outside of the hotel had changed owners.

Alastor’s limbs were long and thin and the radio dials in his eyes were steadily darkening into deep black pits.

" _Greetings, foolish clients of the Hazbin Hotel_ ", the radio behind Husk's bar scratched out, glitching and screeching but still understandable, although barely. The public address system repeated the words with a small delay, but with a slightly better audio. Alastor’s mouth was flashing yellow and orange in sync with his words, but his lips didn’t move. " _If I may interrupt your indignant exclamations over your displaced mobile telephones, I have an announcement to make. To our great sorrow, someone will meet their untimely demise and leave this unholy realm for good tonight, bless their damned soul. And by someone I mean all of you. I'll have you know it's nothing personal; simply business. The Blue Moon – as some of you might know despite the obscurity of the information – means that magical soul absorption is possible tonight without anyone needing to be deal-bound and in debt. Congratulations, your souls will be used to make mine stronger. Apologies for the inconvenience, and please wait patiently for your turn in your rooms. Or don't; I do love a good chase. See you soon!_ "

The radio was left on but wrongly tuned, producing a constant scratchy hiss in the background to echo in the empty halls. Husk still heard the fucking chittering, too.

"Let the fun begin, fellows."

\-----

He had known it! He had known all along! But no, nobody had believed him, none of the fools had taken his warnings seriously, all too cozy in the Princess' protection and tricked by the Radio Demon's cutesy little magic tricks and manners!

Baxter struggled to push a heavy chest full of spare parts to block the door, his shoes squeaking against the floor and his breath short from the effort.

He hoped the time he invested in moving furniture around would buy him a comparably longer stretch of time to ready his (experimental) laser cannon to hopefully incinerate whoever walked through the door next.

He was too intelligent to perish again! Hell had yet to see his full potential, the true scope of his genius, and there were many experiments to be done still! Many discoveries! Mysteries! Fate couldn't rob him of his second chance, it was unacceptable and he wouldn't have it!

The chest was finally snug against the door and he took a moment to catch his breath while leaning against it. The esca dangling from his hat bobbed up and down, illuminating his personal bubble like his bright ideas lighted up his soul.

The soul he wasn't going to let the Radio Demon have.

Once his heartbeat and breathing were calm once more, he jumped back into action, running to uncover his (experimental) laser cannon and then turning the unnecessarily creaky crank – he should oil it – to aim the barrel at the door. That done, he turned the weapon on, watched it sputter and blink a few warning lights on and off, before going back to frustrating inertness. He slammed the control panel's side on that one specific spot and the machine turned back on with a satisfying hum. With a press of a button the laser started charging up, which quickly warmed the immediate area around the weapon to uncomfortable degrees. He still needed to insulate it better.

"Yes, my pretty, warm up!" he said with a cackle, and jumped back down to see if he could ready the Handheld Plasma Cutter (trademark pending) to be his Plan B.

And then the upper half of his door was crashed into splinters by a massive pair of multi-pronged antlers. Pieces of wood clattered all over his floor and a skeletal figure with black holes in place of eyes and a mouth that reminded him of evenings sat in front of an old radio with his long dead family climbed effortlessly through the opening, all long limbs and sharp claws and tattered coat tails.

Wasting his time on the chest had clearly been a miscalculation.

"Stay away from me, fiend!" Baxter screeched, skittering backwards to reach his (experimental) laser cannon again. "I'm warning you!"

The Radio Demon straightened his back a little, but not all the way – why not all the way? Doing things like that half the way caused Baxter's left eye to twitch and his fingers to curl – and then tilted his head to the side. Every radio-like device in the room turned on and there was static and screeching and weird chittering-

Baxter pressed the button to fire the laser.

The machine charged up, the ambient light on his side of the room turning blue and white. Strands of his hair escaped the grease keeping them slicked back and floated in the staticky air…

And then the (experimental) laser canon sputtered up and died, and the fuse panel near the door went 'pop!', taking away the lights in the room and quieting all the machines that weren't creepy radios.

The Radio Demon's grin glowed in the dark that wasn't as dark as it should have been, because the esca dangling from Baxter's hat illuminated his personal bubble like a clear little target for predators instead of the bait for dumb prey it was supposed to be.

...This wasn't going according to the plan at all.

The Radio Demon lunged. Baxter tossed his hat to one side and hurled himself to the opposite direction. His Handheld Plasma Cutter (trademark pending) was on a shelf by the wall, next to the (failed) multi-screwdriver, above the box of spare metal squares. If he could just get a hold of it-

There was a sound of fabric tearing as well as a sound of something more solid being gouged, then a small crunch as the light from his esca went out.

His diversion was done with and so was the last light source in the room, discounting the wide, sharp grin he wasn’t looking at.

Baxter scrambled up and _sprinted_ for his life.

His heart was pounding a mile a minute as his small feet took him closer to the shelf with loud – too loud – leaped step after hurried leap. He heard shuffling clothes and clacking feet behind him, as well as the distinct sound of wires being forcibly ripped from the ceiling and tossed aside, likely getting stuck in the monster's tall antlers.

He didn’t see where he was going but he knew his lab well enough that he was pretty sure he was going into the right direction.

He hoped so.

He had never had to be in the dark since he arrived in Hell, he had always had the light of his esca to keep him safe. To keep him from falling into the suffocating darkness. Drowning in it like he had drowned in his life.

He hated the dark. And this dark didn’t even plug his ears and keep the creepy sounds away, no, he still heard the radio screeching and The Radio Demon’s hoof-printed shoes click-clacking on the floor and his own footsteps giving away his position and his own heartbeat loud in his ears-

He collided into a shelf and insignificant objects rattled around and dropped noisily on the floor. Too much noise. Too little light. Not enough control over _anything_. But he _didn't care_. He just couldn’t afford to care for once because he needed his Plan B!

He felt around and yes, that was the box of spare metal squares, so he reached with his right hand-

And his arm was in excruciating pain. Something sharp pierced through his bicep in a diagonal angle, ripping the muscle and causing his arm to spasm uncontrollably, furthering the damage with every twitch. His fingertips brushed against the Handheld Plasma Cutter (trademark pending) but he couldn't control them anymore; could no longer move his arm on his own volition at all.

Spasm, twitch, fingers curling into an involuntary fist.

His left shoulder and shoulder blade were pierced similarly and he had never been in this much pain, not even in his death. He could feel his sleeves get wet and warm and sticky and his carnivorous instinct liked the scent in the air despite his brain knowing this was not at all a good thing-

There was a presence behind him and the radio noises were loud in his ears, even though this side of the room had nothing radio-escue around. They were loud, but the rushing in his ears was louder.

The long, thin objects piercing his flesh and muscle were pulled out with a sick squelch and his arms dropped to his sides uselessly. He wasn't sure if his screaming was audible or inwards when he was bodily turned around and the blood-slicked claws sank into his chest.

The grin was yellow, yellow, glowing yellow in the pitch black room.

This must be what it was like to follow the light of an esca into your death.

\-----

Vaggie was cursing long strings in Spanish under her breath. She had known all along that the Radio Demon couldn't be trusted, but she had still lowered her guard little by little over their months together in the hotel. And now? Now there were bitter tears of betrayal stinging at the edge of her eye that she refused to acknowledge fully.

She hadn't wanted to trust him but she _had_ , in the end, in some capacity.

She was such a damned fool.

"Darling, I do think that's more than a smidgen futile", Mimzy said from her perch on Vaggie's bed, taking a drag from a cigarette held on a long, pink holder. She wasn't actually allowed to smoke inside of the hotel, but right now there were much bigger worries, so Vaggie was willing to overlook it. That, and she had already yelled at her about it once with no results and she didn't have the _time_ for this shit. "You won't be able to kill Allie no matter how much you try. There's a reason he's on top of the food chain, hun."

"We might be able to if you actually help instead of accepting your fate!" Vaggie snapped, and flipped a small work desk to its side for another make-shift cover, heedless of the items on top spilling all over the floor. She jabbed a dagger loosely on one of the legs. "If nothing else, flip the bed and get behind it!"

Mimzy exhaled a smoke ring and made no move to get up.

Vaggie wanted to hurl one of her weapons at her.

Suddenly the door knob turned and Vaggie jumped behind the cover, heart racing as she yanked the dagger from the table leg into her hand. She hadn't heard footsteps! Alastor wasn't exactly quiet so she should have-

"Knock knock", Husk's voice said as the door opened. Vaggie hesitated, her weapon at the ready to be flung in a split-second, but she didn't know whether Husk was an ally or an enemy now. On one hand, he was close with Alastor. On the other hand, Alastor was a bastard who had announced his intention to kill everyone in this hotel, and Husk was a resident.

She could either attack a potential ally in self-defense, or she could extend the same tentative trust she had granted Alastor and be backstabbed once again.

Her options were pure shit.

"Don't come any closer!" she yelled and lifted the dagger up so he could see it. "Are you with Alastor or us?"

Husk's eyes stopped at the weapon for all of a second before sliding past her and focusing on something else instead. His face gave no clues to his thoughts and Vaggie got a bad feeling about this in the pit of her stomach. "There you are, Mimzy. Stay exactly where you are."

"Answer me!"

"Roger that, handsome~"

Vaggie threw the dagger, no longer willing to take a chance with the mangy, obviously backstabbing cat.

Husk simply dodged it by stepping to the side gracefully, reflexes lighting fast and completely out of character for the lazy drunk lying on the bar counter all day. Then he crouched down and pounced towards Vaggie in one smooth move, sharp claws extended and ready to tear into flesh like a hot knife into butter.

Vaggie yelped against her will and tossed herself to the other end of her cover just in time to see Husk swipe at where her face had been a second earlier. She summoned another dagger, threw it haphazardly at her enemy to distract him, and scrambled her way to the other side of the table from the small opening between her end and the wall. She heard a smack and a clatter and assumed her weapon had been parried.

No time to think about that.

She grabbed another knife from thin air and threw it at the lamp on the ceiling, extinguishing the main light source in the room.

She was a moth, a little darkness wasn't going to hinder her at all.

"I take it you've forgotten I can see in the dark?" Husk's voice said from above her and holy fuck this man's movements were completely silent-

Vaggie summoned her spear and jabbed upwards towards the voice. Husk dodged once more and a sharp-clawed paw grabbed a hold of the spear faster than Vaggie's eye could follow. A yellow cheshire cat grin appeared in the darkness underneath the orange slivers mostly covered by fully blown pupils.

She should have kept the lights on.

She made a futile attempt to first push and then pull the spear, but Husk's grip was iron-tight. She abandoned the spear and instead summoned one of her knives back and threw it towards the increasingly anxiety inducing smirk.

Husk grabbed it out of the air with his free paw, unflinching.

"Maybe try something else", Husk said, and dropped both weapons. "You can't beat my reflexes."

Vaggie scooted backwards to get some distance, cold sweat on her back giving her shivers. "Are you playing with me, you bastard?"

Husk chuckled and shrugged. "I'm a fucking cat, what the hell else did you expect? You could try running, the door is right there. I'll give you a headstart."

Vaggie's pride and fighting spirit wanted to spit in his smug face and decline the offer.

But she wanted to survive more and she was clearly at a disadvantage in this small, dark room. With more space to maneuver she could make better use of her daggers. She might even be able to reach the old phone in the hall to call Charlie and potentially save everyone who was still alive.

Sometimes one needed to swallow their pride for the greater good.

She scrambled to her feet, backed towards the door while glaring hatefully at Husk's face, and once she felt the doorknob with her hand she yanked the door open, turned heel, and ran.

She thought she heard Husk say something as she fled, but she didn't care. Her goal was to reach the phone before Husk caught up with her. She only needed to dial Charlie and leave the receiver hanging so Charlie could maybe hear screaming or something and come back, should Vaggie not have the time to actually talk to her. At the very least she would know someone had tried to call her with the phone, and that should be alarming enough to get her to come back.

Vaggie's breath was ragged and her heart was racing as she ran as fast as her feet could carry her. She had to slow down at the corner so she didn't crash into a wall too hard, and finally she saw her goal.

She had no idea if Husk was still in her room or right behind her and she didn't give a single fuck.

She rushed over to the phone and picked up the receiver to hold in one hand – she knew pressing the buttons without lifting the thing did nothing, even though she hadn't used anything but a cellphone since her childhood. With her other hand she pressed the… buttons… that were actually just holes with numbers underneath instead of buttons?

"Oh no", she said, and looked at the phone with increasing alarm. There was a metallic circle with holes in it instead of the somewhat familiar square of plastic buttons like the ancient phone in her childhood home had had. She tried pushing at the numbers in the holes, but her fingertip was met with solid metal instead of any give indicating a button.

How did one dial with this thing?

She didn’t have the time to figure this out!

She repeatedly pressed the tip of her finger into the holes, despite already knowing it did nothing. The hand holding the receiver started to shake and she found her breath becoming shorter and faster and she had shivers from the icy drops of sweat rolling down her spine under her dress.

Come on, work! Please!

"Don't know how to use a rotary phone, do you?"

The receiver dropped from her hand as she whirled around to look at Husk, who had once again arrived without making any noise-

Husk's paw moved fast and Vaggie stumbled backwards against her will as the deadly claws sank into her chest, heedless of the ribs that were supposed to protect her.

Her body felt simultaneously hot and cold and her shivering had more to do with pain now.

"You stick a finger into the desired number's hole", Husk said, completely casual. Vaggie coughed and droplets of blood landed on Husk's white chest fur in a pale mockery of the mess her own body was becoming. She summoned a knife into her hand, but her shock shaking fingers dropped it and the clatter was loud in her ears.

She needed… Charlie...

"Then you spin the wheel to the very end where a finger stop halts the movement." Husk's claws sliced her ribs, muscles, flesh and organs effortlessly in a wide circle over her side, stomach, the other side, breasts, and down to her heart.

Vaggie's shoes were soaking through with her own blood that was puddling around her feet. More blood was dripping down her chin from her mouth and bubbling up his nose, making breathing impossible.

Charlie, help...

"Lastly you finish selecting that one number by removing your finger from the hole and letting the wheel automatically return to its home position", Husk said, and his voice sounded echo-y and muffled at the same time.

Vaggie felt so cold and she barely even felt it when Husk's claws were retracted, although she did vaguely feel something being ripped out of its place in her chest.

She was no longer able to see what it had been as she slumped down into the puddle of blood like a marionette whose strings had been cut.

Charl...

\-----

"Mimzy, go to your room and stay there until the shadows in the window retreat", Husk said, stretched his back with a series of muffled cracks, and then followed Vaggie like a silent stalker shadow.

Well then.

Everyone was going to die, she supposed. Except for her and Alastor's lackies.

Mimzy brought her cigarette up to her painted lips for one last drag, before shaking the butt loose from the holder with a sharp flick of her wrist. She stood up and ground the dying ciggy with her heel until it was but a smear on the floor, and then she put away the holder.

Too bad about Vaggie, she had been a fun and feisty girl and now she was being put out like her cigarette. She hadn’t even been in Hell for that long, as far as Mimzy knew – she seemed pretty modern.

Mimzy would miss her, but not enough to risk her own neck for her.

She sighed loudly and looked at the upended furniture.

Staying here had been a massive waste of her time. Redemption… she should have known better. She should have known Alastor would never actually condone something that nonsensical. 

With a shake of her head, Mimzy walked over to the door and peeked through the doorway to make sure the coast was clear before slipping out of the room and heading towards her own. Husk had told her to go there and she wasn’t stupid enough to disregard his words.

She didn’t want to end up like Vaggie.

Her heels clicked against the hardwood floor and the sound echoed in the empty hallways. It was awfully dark with all of the windows blocked and only a few of the lights on in the evening. Normally it didn't bother her in the slightest, but tonight it felt eerie – she might have been imagining it, but she could swear the shadows were moving, too.

...They probably were. Alastor did things like that. It was fine. It was just Alastor. He wouldn't hurt her. ...Not in a permanent way.

She had nothing to worry about and she was being paranoid.

Nothing to worry at all.

If her feet moved a little faster, it was simply because she would rather spend the evening in her own room now that her company was dead or dying. She was not nervous or afraid or creeped out!

She was, however, hearing another person’s footsteps.

Clack, clack, clack, clack up the stairs ahead of her, between her and her destination. The footsteps were heavy. There was a sound of raspy breathing. Something dripping. Something dragging, like a damp hand resting on the handrail while the person ascended, not actually used for support.

Her pace slowed as she approached the sound and the first thing she saw was a pair of large antlers rising from stairs. They were followed by pointy black and red ears, red, poofy hair, black voids instead of eyes, an abnormally wide and worryingly bloodstained smile with impossibly many teeth, an elongated, lanky, pointy figure with too many angles and too long, spindly limbs with extended, thin, blood dripping claws and tattered coat tails.

Alastor.

The Radio Demon.

Mimzy hadn't realized she had frozen on the spot until she found herself taking a shaky step back when Alastor's eyes turned towards her.

The black voids were unfeeling and completely unreadable and alien. She didn't know whether or not he recognized her or cared.

"A-Allie", she said and tried to wrestle her lips into some semblance of a smile. Her feet were not shaking, thank you very much.

She was perfectly safe. Alastor wouldn't hurt her.

She hoped.

She had a small gun strapped to her thigh under her skirt but she knew it would do absolutely nothing to the Radio Demon and she didn't want to shoot at him anyway.

She didn’t want to give him a reason.

Alastor tilted his head with a crack that was much, much more audible than Husk's back had been only a couple of minutes earlier.

Radio static filled the air.

And then she blinked and Alastor was in front of her.

Her full-body flinch was most certainly very understandable and she has a good excuse for it. 

...Alright, maybe she was a little afraid now.

Just a little.

A mere smidgen.

...She was very afraid.

Alastor's breath stank of blood and death and strangely enough fish. Her brain was trying to connect the dots she was vaguely aware were there, but all of her attention was commanded by the threatening presence in front of her.

"A-Alastor", she whimpered, her attempt at a smile straining her cheeks and her voice shaking as much as her body.

The radio noises got louder and glitchier and hurt her ears and she couldn't look away from the voids that were black enough to make her feel like she was drowning in nothingness-

And then Alastor stepped back and lifted a claw to point in the direction she had been heading to.

Mimzy took a moment that felt like forever to process what was happening, and then she inched a hesitant step to the side, towards her room.

Alastor didn't move aside from his chest rising and falling as he breathed.

She took another shaky step, then another, keeping her eyes on the menacing figure the entire time until it was no longer practical lest she wanted to walk backwards.

She took the risk of turning her back to the Radio Demon and walked swiftly – not running, you don't run from a predator, you don't run from a being that is faster than you – to her room's elegantly decorated door. She fumbled with the key for a long, long moment before she was finally inside and the door was closed and relocked and she was leaning her entire weight against it.

Alastor hadn't hurt her.

Her legs gave away under her and she slid down the door into a very un-lady-like position on the floor, holding both of her hands against her breasts and trying to stop the tremors.

She was safe.

\-----

This was super fucking lame.

Crymini had been in Hell for like two years, tops, and she was going to be erased or something to that effect that tonight? As fucking if, if she could help it!

She tapped her fingernails against her hastily packed suitcase's handle while waiting for the ancient elevator to get her to the ground floor. She was so out of this bullshit place! The bloodthirsty psycho could kill the others for all she cared, but she was going to walk out of the door and never look back. Sure, it would have been nice to go to Heaven and not have to deal with the local morons, but at least Hell had a really lit atmosphere and some bop beats to vibe to, so she'd make do.

The elevator finally stopped with a cheerful 'ding' and Crymini wrestled the poorly sliding metal cage door open, cursing the fact that the door continued to be a piece of shit that nobody cared to repair, simply because Charlie thought it encouraged the healthier option of using the stairs. Why that mattered in the quest of getting into Heaven was beyond her, but at least she was going to be shot of this place soon.

She was just about to toss her suitcase out of the elevator when she saw Niffty standing in the way. Finally some good news!

"Hey. I'm gonna yeet myself from this place", Crymini said, and gave her luggage a kick. "Carry this for me, would you? You could come with if you don't feel like being murdered by the psycho boomer."

Niffty looked at the suitcase, then at her. That was when Crymini realized that her usually friendly if a bit unsettling smile was leaning heavily towards the unsettling and completely lacking the friendly.

The knife in her hand was a big hint as well.

Niffty's eye followed Crymini's gaze and the smile widened. "Ooh, you figured it out? That's a shame, I wanted to stab you in the back! Oh well! I probably should have kept the knife hidden."

Nope. Nope nope nope!

Crymini kicked the suitcase at Niffty and then jumped over her to make a beeline towards the door. Her phone was already gone, so what difference did the rest of her meager belongings make at this point?

Also, what the fuck, was literally everyone killing each other now?

She ran down the hallway, claws skidding on the hardwood floor on the turn towards the door.

Then she came to a screeching halt -- probably leaving actual claw gouges on the floor – when Niffty was standing in front of the door, looking perfectly composed and not out of breath in the slightest, unlike Crymini.

"No no, you can't leave", Niffty said with a rapid shake of her head. "Alastor has blocked all the doors and windows. But I do like the idea of a game of tag, it spices this up nicely! Although you're really way too slow for me, no offense, so maybe it's a little boring. Oh! I know! Hide and seek! You hide, I seek, and when I find you I'll stab you!"

"You're a psychopath!" Crymini yelled, her hackles rising and heartbeat quickening. The door was blocked? The windows too? She was stuck with at least two murder-happy maniacs?

This was the worst.

"People keep telling me that", Niffty said with a giggle, then waved her knife at Crymini. "I'll count to twenty, go find a hiding place!"

Niffty closed her eye and started counting.

Now what? Should she attack her now that she wasn't looking and was distracted? Niffty had a knife and was fast, but she was also smaller than Crymini, which was a rare advantage in Hell, filled with hulking beasts as it was.

"You'll live longer if you go hide, you know", Niffty said, interrupting her counting. "I'm aware you're still standing there, silly! If you're not hidden when I'm done counting, I will kill you slowly and painfully!"

Crymini liked to talk big, but she was not a fighter, so this was enough incentive to turn around and run for her life. Literally.

She really, really didn’t want to be stabbed to death tonight. Or at all.

Her head swiveled from side to side as she desperately looked for a decent hiding spot while she ran. She would prefer a good hiding place, but she was working with a limited time and needed to find _something_ , which would be a lot better than nothing. Twenty seconds wasn't a long time.

Where to hide, where to hide, where to hide?

There.

She ran up to the front desk and jumped over the counter to occupy the bar keeper's place. She pushed the big trash can out of its spot under the counter and into what she thought was a natural enough looking position by the wall, and then huddled in its place, at least completely out of sight if Niffty only glanced in without doing a thorough search.

It was a truly shitty hiding place, but still better than being out in the open.

Then she waited. She couldn't hear Niffty's counting, so she was probably done. She heard the grandfather clock ticking seconds away, the bar's fridge and freezer humming, the nearby radio's static noises, weird chittering and scratching by the windows that felt somehow otherworldly...

Damn it, she should have attacked instead of hiding because now she was terrified, hyper aware of all the sounds around her, and unaware of Niffty's location.

The waiting in uncertainty was much, much worse than it would have been to just get this over with.

She wrapped her bushy tail around her feet and tried her hardest to calm her breathing and heartbeat that sounded way too loud in her sharp ears.

And then she heard tippy-tappy sounds of tiny feet and gentle fabric flutter and…

" _Heehee, I wonder if she's in here?_ "

Her heart dropped into an icy lake in the pit of her stomach.

Niffty was in the room.

Shit.

She wanted to be out of here. She wanted to not be hiding in a trash can rack while waiting to be murdered. She wanted to at least be out in the open so she could see when Niffty was-

The tiny footsteps came closer and Niffty was humming now. There were wooshing noises as she presumably swung the knife through the air without a care as she skipped around like a happy little child she wasn't.

Crymini's tail was curling up tighter and her claws were digging into her arms where her fur was standing on end.

The revolving door that led into the bar creaked as Niffty entered, and the tip-tap stopped.

Crymini held her breath. Her heart was beating wildly and her blood was rushing in her ears.

"Hmm… Not here, I guess."

The door creaked and was left flapping around noisily, which overrode all the other sounds for a few seconds.

Niffty… left.

She hadn't noticed her.

She was right there and hadn't noticed her.

Crymini slowly and shakily let out the breath she had been holding, unable to believe her luck.

Her ears didn't pick up any sounds of Niffty walking around the room anymore, which she frankly hadn't been at all discreet about so it'd be easy to notice. She was gone.

Now what? Stay where she was and count on Niffty not checking again? Find a new spot? Try to escape?

Her legs felt like jelly, so she probably needed a moment before she could try anything. A moment to get her shit together and gather some bravery to leave her spot, maybe.

...Bravery...

She looked up towards the shelves upon shelves of alcohol that the cat gramps refused to serve her because she was technically too young and he was an actual asshole.

She could have some liquid bravery to make everything a little less terrifying. Nobody was there to stop her and she frankly didn’t give a single solitary fuck that this would count as stealing.

The liquor bottles were looking very friendly.

With that thought she crawled out of her hiding spot-

And felt pure pain in her back, which made her stumble forward and land on her face.

Her back felt like it was on fire.

"Finally! I was starting to get bored of waiting for you to get out!"

Her head whipped around to the sound of Niffty's voice and she saw a wide grin, an even wider eye, and spots of red on an apron. A bloody knife was held up high.

Niffty had never actually left.

The flapping door hadn’t masked her retreating footsteps like Crymini had unconsciously assumed. She just never left in the first place.

"Stabby time!"

Giggling.

The knife struck repeatedly and quickly like an entire nest of angered snakes. It pierced Crymini's shoulder, then the side of her neck, it sliced her ear, it blinded an eye, it struck her back multiple times, it cut off a couple of fingers when she lifted an arm up in a feeble attempt to protect herself, and finally it hit her temple hard enough to pierce bone.

The crunch didn't quite drown out the echoing laughter when the darkness came.

\-----

"Stay here and be very quiet, okay Nuggs?" Angel said, wearing a reassuring smile as he patted his little pig's head gently. "I will get you as soon as I can. If I'm not back when you wake up tomorrow morning, find Charlie."

Not that Angel thought he wouldn't be back, but he had never been willing to risk Fat Nuggets' safety on any maybes. Cherri was always aware of where the little piggy was and Charlie had been instructed to contact her if Angel was ever unable to take care of Nuggs himself. It had yet to happen during his stay at the hotel, but it had been a thing a couple of times before – Valentino wasn't a gentle guy, enough said.

Angel closed the closet door gently and then steeled his expression and straightened his fedora.

Alastor didn't know who he was messing with. He may be the Radio Demon or whatever, but Angel was sure Vaggie exaggerated in her tales of his scariness. The guy was mostly a mischievous asshole from what Angel had seen with his own eight eyes; the only actually scary bit had been his tentacle kink on the first day of his stay.

Please, Angel was the son of Don Henroin. One did not grown up with the Mafia and turn out a fucking wimp. He was gonna kick that deer ass so fucking hard that even his Jambalaya loving mother wouldn't recognize his sorry corpse.

With a smirk Angel walked away from the random cleaning supply closet and towards his room. He wasn't going to go in, mind, as he didn't fancy destroying his shit, but the stairs were that way and he hoped to go downstairs into the communal living room for the best fighting area. Lots of cover and running room there, should he need it. He knew this shit.

He made it past his room and to the stairs when he saw his enemy down on the next floor. 

Okay, he had to admit that he felt a chill go up his spine at the sight.

Alastor was taller and spindlier than Angel himself – which was a feat, especially since the guy was normally a shorty – and he was made of sharp, unnatural angles and pointy parts. His red bits, such as his hair and outfit, had darkened to look like fresh blood – and honestly, some of it probably _was_ fresh blood – and his clothes were ripped and shredded like he was a scarecrow that had been out in the merciless wind and hail for fucking decades. His grinning mouth was dripping some kind of dark goo and his eyes were completely black, blacker than black, like endless tunnels that had never seen the light of day.

Yeah, Angel could see why people pissed themselves at the mention of this guy.

Not him, though.

He summoned a tommy gun and started shooting without any further ado.

Alastor lifted a hand and the bullets were promptly swallowed by shadows, leaving him completely unaffected by the attack. His void-eyes turned towards Angel and his grin widened.

...

Uh-oh. This could mean trouble.

Angel kept shooting anyway to keep the monster distracted and unable to attack him, then abruptly threw the gun at him for an additional surprise factor, jumped on the handrail when Alastor lifted the arm higher to block the gun from hitting him in the face, and slid past him. Once he reached the bottom he whirled around, summoned another gun, and shot away once more.

Alastor melted into a shadow on the floor before the bullets could hit him.

Fuck, shit, damn it!

Angel jumped backwards multiple times while his eyes frantically scanned the floor for clues of his enemy's whereabouts, and then his back hit something that was definitely not the wall. He pushed himself away from it just in time to feel something sharp claw his shoulders and rip the fabric there, but only barely scratch his actual flesh. He launched a series of bullets before he even managed to turn around fully.

Alastor melted away again.

"Fucking piece of shit deer bastard!" Angel yelled while looking around anxiously. "Try to fight at least a little fair, would you?"

Not that Angel ever fought fair, but he was starting to realize that his chances of winning were slim with an enemy like this.

He wished Cherri was here to have his back.

He heard a chittering noise behind him and shot immediately. When he was able to look, there was nothing there.

Shit.

Where was Alastor?

His multiple eyes darted from shadow to shadow, wall to floor to ceiling, but everything looked ominous and all the shadows seemed to be moving and everything had eyes that were gone the next moment. He shot at a few of the shadows, but aside from ruining the tapestry he achieved nothing.

He was feeling terribly vulnerable and out in the open even though the hallway was relatively cramped.

"Come on, asshole, stop hiding!" he yelled while backing towards where he knew the stairs to the lower floor were. Again he heard a sound behind him and shot, only to see nothing out of place.

He was sure he heard radio scratching now, but he couldn't pinpoint where it was coming from. The increasing chittering that almost sounded like words now was causing him to feel disoriented and make him doubt all of his senses.

He summoned another gun and shot into every which direction at once.

Still nothing.

His breathing was more rapid than he cared to admit and his heart jumped into his throat when he was grabbed from behind. Claws sank into his shoulders again, like long and thin stilettos, this time drawing generous amounts of blood instead of just ripping his clothes.

Angel summoned his third pair of arms and forcefully pushed himself out of the deathly grip, uncaring of the fact that his highest pair got ripped out of their sockets in the process when Alastor's grip didn't yield.

The pain was unreal and blood was spurting out like his arm sockets were freshly opened bottles of champagne.

But Angel was used to pain. His entire life had been mostly fucking pain.

His middle arms shot up and his palms slapped tightly against his shoulders in an attempt to slow the bleeding, while his lower arms caught the dropped tommy gun and shot without even an attempt at actual aiming.

Alastor was covered in Angel's blood and holding the severed pair of his arms, which was honestly as nauseating as the pain.

And then the asshole melted away again, leaving behind a puddle of blood, the slowly bleeding detached arms, and the gun the arms had been holding earlier.

Angel wanted to throw up from the sight. He also wanted to pass out from the pain. He couldn't afford to do either.

"Motherfucker…" he grunted, and started running towards the stairs. His fingers were slick with blood and the stains on his jacket were spreading rapidly and he knew running made his heart pump the blood out faster, but-

The shadows were emitting broken music and they were wiggling and twisting and staring at him and the lights were flickering and he maybe heard clacking footsteps behind him- 

And then he tripped on something when there should have been nothing to trip on, his gun was flung away from his hands with a loud clatter, and his face met the floor.

He knew this was it.

There was no way Alastor wouldn't seize this chance.

He only hoped Fat Nuggets stayed hidden.

" _Tired of playing, Angel?_ "

The voice was crackling, staticky, and it echoed.

Claws pierced his lower arms and then they, too, were ripped from his body like he was a paper doll instead of a demon of flesh and blood. Or like a cruel child playing with a normal spider.

His vision was blacking around the edges and he felt lightheaded. He still wanted to throw up, too.

He was rolled around on his back and Alastor was crouched over him. Black goo dripped from his widely grinning mouth and landed on Angel's face.

Angel tried to lift his feet to at least kick the bastard as the last thing he did, but he found that his feet were restrained by something.

He thought he saw another smile over Alastor's shoulder. Wide and glowing and curling at the edges.

" _Good night, Angel._ "

Angel's chest got ripped open and claws cut apart muscles and veins and bones with sickening squelching and crunching sounds.

Angel's eyes glassed over pair by pair until he knew no more.

\-----

Niffty hummed to herself as she prepared the heart Husk had just brought into her kitchen. She hadn't asked whose it was because it really didn't matter much to her – her job was to clean the meat for Alastor, and it was better if she was done with the pieces she already had when Alastor brought in the rest, so he could start cooking right away and she would be able to immediately get started with what he brought.

Rinse out the blood, cut off the atria and and the valves, portion the muscle, trim off the fat, remove the skin, the tough fibres, the big vein…

"If I wasn't aware those came from someone I knew, they'd actually look delicious at this stage", Husk commented, looking at the slabs of Crymini's heart on a plate near the hot stove. His arms were crossed over his blood-stained chest and his usually warm orange eyes were unfeeling and distant, like they always got after he killed someone.

Niffty was certain Husk would get well and truly drunk after they left the hotel. He murdered without hesitation when Alastor asked, but for some reason he tended to feel bad afterwards.

Niffty would miss these nice people too, but it had also been fun to play with Crymini at the end! She would cherish the memory.

The kitchen door opened, and Alastor waltzed in. He was back to his usual state of being – clean clothes and everything – and was emitting a slow jazz song. His shadow was erratic and Husk's ears turned back, so Niffty assumed it was doing the chittering thing Husk heard but she didn't.

"I see you've been nice and busy, my dear", Alastor said, and set down a bloody plastic bag next to Niffty's cutting board. "Here's more work for you."

He swiped away the prepared cuts and dropped them into the plate with Crymini's pieces. Then he magicked himself into a chef's outfit and started cooking.

The pan was hot and the meat sizzled and popped and covered Alastor's arms and chest with oil stains that Niffty thankfully didn't have to clean afterwards. Spices and forbidden herbs scented the air as Alastor worked his cooking magic and Niffty's knife sang beautiful, gory music into her ears as it sliced through the meat.

She may not get to eat any of this, as that was Alastor’s privilege, but she loved cooking her former friends with her forever friends.

They would live forever in Alastor, too.

\-----

It was the early hours in the morning. The Blue Moon was setting and the party was as good as over, so a tired Charlie had gotten into the limo and asked her loyal guards to take her home.

It was actually kind of funny. The party had been at the Magne Manor, which should be the place she called home. Yet, when she thought about home, her mind took her to the hotel and to Vaggie's warm arms that were waiting for her.

Vaggie was probably dead to the world right now, but Charlie would take off the make-up and her fancy clothes and climb into the bed, and Vaggie was sure to snuggle up to her immediately regardless. She was a cuddler and Charlie loved it.

With a smile on her face, she stepped out of the limo, bid Razzle and Dazzle a good night, and slowly walked up to the front door, very much looking forward to getting into her cozy bed.

However, the moment she opened the door Fat Nuggets jumped into her arms and caused her to fall on her rump slightly painfully.

"Hey, hey, calm down, Nuggs!" she said with a tired laugh, holding onto the squealing pig with one arm and swiping her now half-loosened hair off her face with the other. "Why are you so-"

Her eyes finally focused on the frantic pig properly, and she sucked in a sharp gasp of breath as it felt like her heart stopped beating. Her blood ran icy cold, and she found herself much less willing to step inside of the hotel now.

"Why… why are you covered in… blood?"

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, hey, hey, look! This fic has a fan-written sequel, [An Empty home](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27307942/) by [OneRandomThing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneRandomThing/pseuds/OneRandomThing) : DD How neat is that?? Go read it!
> 
> Also  
> Check out my Fanfic Progress Update tumblr blog: [Jadeile-writes](https://jadeile-writes.tumblr.com/).  
> There you can keep a track of how my on-going stories are progressing, see if something new is in the works, find out the expected posting dates, and see little sneak-peeks into the future chapters of my longer fics. I update the blog every Saturday with fresh info!


End file.
